


Of Wolves and Men

by newisalwaysbetter



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Whump, but not that way, flynn is human no worries, flynn punches a wolf in the face, inaccurate depiction of wolves, lucy climbs flynn like a tree, protective!flynn, shameless Beauty and the Beast AU, specifically the Wolf Scene, the preston sisters make do, this got pride and prejudicey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 11:43:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18281867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newisalwaysbetter/pseuds/newisalwaysbetter
Summary: Lucy storms out into a forest filled with wolves and loses her horse. Fortunately, she has a very wolfy man watching out for her.(A whumpy, self-indulgent excerpt from my garcy Beauty and the Beast AU, specifically the Wolf Scene from the Disney movie[s]. Featuring romance-novel-hero protective!Flynn.)





	Of Wolves and Men

**Author's Note:**

> Request: "How would you feel about writing Garcy+animal attack?"
> 
> Based off That Wolf Scene from the Disney movie(s), featuring shameless amounts of romance-novel-hero protective!Flynn, who is human but still a bit wolfy himself. Backstory is (mostly) put aside in favor of whumpy warnings for injury, violence, blood, guns, and, y’know, wolf attacks (and attacking of wolves).
> 
> As always, prompt requests remain open at to-hell-with-oblivion on tumblr :) if you like this, come send me something to write!

She had forgotten about the wolves.

Lucy had heard them on her ride in, of course, but just now she’d been too preoccupied with indignantly reminding her raging housemate that she stayed with him by choice, three seconds before she stormed out and saddled up. Now she spurs her horse on, breathing hard. The wind and the wolves roar in her ears. Lucy spares a glance back and sees three of them coursing behind her, all sharp teeth and frozen fur.  _This is it, then._ She’s going to die.

She’ll learn later that one of them had nipped her horse’s ankles and made him rear, but at the time all Lucy knows is that there’s a panicked  _neigh,_  a violent jerk (like she hasn’t had enough of  _those_  lately), and then she’s flying backwards through the frosty air. 

She goes down hard. The impact knocks her senseless, and Lucy’s lying on the frozen ground, the sky spinning above her, gasping air back into her lungs, when the first wolf jumps on her. 

Hot weight pins her down, meaty breath heats her face, and teeth flash at her. 

Lucy throws up her hands, which means she has a front-row seat when the vicious fangs sink deep into her arm. 

Her shriek rends the night.

_BANG!_

The furry body flies off her, and there’s a roar in which Lucy recognizes her name. She looks up dizzily, and there, in a rush of black leather, he stands astride her.

Garcia Flynn, alias the Beast, is a towering giant of a man. He looms over Lucy even more than usual, one big boot planted on either side of her chest. Far above, the light of his lantern reveals a lean, wolfish face under a ragged pocketknife fringe and three days’ worth of scruff. Those black eyes look down at her and flash to where she cradles her injured arm to her chest, and his nostrils flare in the firelight.

Lucy’s heart skips a beat, and she’s not sure it’s from fear.

Something snarls near her head, and Lucy whimpers, her eyes squeezing shut. “Don’t move,” Flynn growls from above her, and she winces as his boot flashes over her to deliver a vicious kick to the wolf circling her head. There’s a  _thud_  and a wolfy whine.

It’s too much. It’s all too much. Tears of fear and pain threaten, and Lucy scrabbles in the dirt to sit up with just one arm. She moves too quickly, and the dark forest spins crazily around her. Her head throbs, and Lucy moans in pain. She flails as she falls backward, but she manages to get a grip on Flynn’s solid calf and clings there, face pressing into his leather breeches. She’s in too much pain to be embarrassed.

The wolves are still circling. One snaps at her feet, and Lucy squeaks and curls in on herself. Above her, Flynn cocks his gun, and audibly snarls. 

The standoff continues for a long moment before Flynn kneels astride her, setting his lantern down in the snow. His battle-worn face, very close now, betrays nothing, but something in his jaw tightens as he eyes the circling wolves. Wordlessly, he slides a warm, protective arm around her and draws Lucy against him.

When Flynn lifts her, fear and pain make Lucy shameless, and she scrambles into his arms and up his body. He grunts but doesn’t protest as she climbs him. 

When Flynn stands, Lucy sits sturdily in his free arm, wrapped around his head and shoulders. The wolves are stalking closer. Flynn takes a step back.

They bump up against a tree. Lucy looks down and Flynn looks up, and in their eye contact they make an understanding. 

He boosts her up, and Lucy struggles to climb into the tree. The growling is getting louder, and Flynn urges from below, “Up, up. Go!” Lucy grits her teeth and clings with her injured arm, and she makes it into the tree just as the wolves leap.

The first one takes the metal barrel of Flynn’s gun across the snout, and falls back, whimpering. But the other, more massive wolf takes him by surprise and knocks Flynn off his feet. Lucy screams as they tussle in the snow in a flurry of fur and teeth. 

The wolf is on top, snapping at Flynn’s throat, barely held off by the rifle braced across its neck. Although she’s shaking, Lucy starts to climb down. She doesn’t have a plan yet, but she has to help–maybe she can grab the now-abandoned lantern, set the wolf on fire…

“No,” Flynn yells, and Lucy sees those fierce eyes looking past the wolf, to her. They’re wild with something like desperation. “Stay up there.”

With her heart in her throat, Lucy nods.

Powerful muscles tense under the black leather, and Flynn shoves the wolf off him–but not far enough, and it rounds on him and sinks its teeth into his lower leg. Flynn howls, a sharp, brutal sound of pain. 

Then, lips drawn back in a snarl, he sits up and punches the wolf full on the snout. 

It darts away, which lets him get to his feet. The two predators pant and stare each other down.

As the wolf stalks towards him, Flynn levels his rifle. Lucy hides her face.

_BANG!_

When Lucy looks up, the wolf is on the run, tail between its legs, and the shot is buried in a tree well over its head. She exhales, and Flynn looks up at her, a question in his dark eyes. He begins to limps towards her, leaving a trail of red in the snow. Although her front is soaked with the blood from her arm, Lucy still swallows at the sight.

She climbs down, but stops on the lowest branch, which is still a good seven feet off the ground. She’s dreading the jump when Flynn huffs and puts his big hands on her hips. He has to rest on his injured leg to help her, and Lucy hears his exhale of pain as he lifts her down.

When she’s standing safely on the ground, Lucy cradles her arm and shifts her weight nervously. Flynn stands very close, rifle under his arm. He rests his weight on his unhurt leg and studies her, brow furrowed in something resembling confusion.

Blood loss makes her suddenly dizzy, and Lucy sways and issues an involuntary moan. A warm hand wraps around her shoulder. “You’re hurt.”

She’s too battered to do anything but nod. Flynn removes his hand as if burned.

“The woods should be safe, now.” He coughs. “If you still want to go.”

Lucy swallows hard, and steps forward. It seems only natural to slide an arm under Flynn’s, to gently turn him back the way they came. 

“No,” she says, and Flynn seems more confused than ever. “No.” He looks as though gears are turning his head. Flynn nods, hesitantly, then lets part of his weight fall against Lucy’s slim frame. Lucy tucks her injured arm against his warm body. 

When they’re both ready, they limp home like that, together, through the night, and through the gently falling snow.


End file.
